


Sitting On The Edge Of Control

by Only_by_Night



Series: Two To Tango [1]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Pupcake - Freeform, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_by_Night/pseuds/Only_by_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patsy tries her best to suppress her desire for Delia, but eventually lust gets the better of her. She still won't break house rules though. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting On The Edge Of Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeliverMePatsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliverMePatsy/gifts).



> For Tumblr user DeliverMePatsy, based on anon prompt: Nearly getting caught by Trixie.  
> Probably going to be the first of a few set in this slight-au. The rest might also be oneshots, or I might add them as chapters. Again- no Beta, so please do flag up any mistakes and I'll fix them.  
> Recommended listening: Dusty Springfield. (see endnotes)

Patsy Mount wasn’t the kind of woman who got bored. People described her as practical, industrious, assiduous even. That said, it had been a _very_ quiet day in Poplar. Not one baby. All day. Every single bottle and bandage and birthing aid in Nonnatus House had been sterilised, organised and inventoried. She’d updated every file, washed and dried every last teaspoon, read _Vogue_ from cover to cover, even written to an old acquaintance she hadn’t heard from in a year, but when she finally glanced down at her standard issue nurse’s watch, it wasn’t even four pm. The nuns at boarding school had always maintained that the Devil made work for idle hands and Patsy knew all too well where her mind would drift the minute she was unoccupied.

Sure enough, unbidden, fully formed in her recollection was Nurse Delia Busby; diminutive but deceptively athletic. The day they met, May Day, all the off-duty nurses were having a rounders tournament in the park and Delia had easily outrun much taller women. Patsy smiled to herself, remembering the curve of muscular calves, of how she’d pretended to need a bottle opener just for an excuse to start a conversation, of her unexpected delight at that lilting Welsh accent. She remembered with perfect clarity how steadfastly she’d ignored every signal her body sent her as they’d spent the rest of the afternoon engrossed in conversation, putting dry mouth and fluttering insides down to the heat, and her own heat she didn’t dwell on at all. Even thinking about it was stirring the statuesque young woman in ways entirely inappropriate for the time and place. She shook her head to clear the images and went out into the small allotment plot at the back of the house, trying to find a more wholesome distraction.

“Fred!” she called, seeing the handyman wresting something from his chaotic shed. “I’m rather at a loose end. I don’t suppose you need another pair of hands?”

Fred emerged backwards carrying a teetering stack of plant pots and promptly tipped them over so they rolled in every direction. Seizing on a task that needed attending to, Patsy chased them down and lined them up neatly along the edge of the flowerbed before he could catch his breath to tell the obliging midwife not to worry.

“What are we potting?” She asked him, in a tone that let him know with absolute certainty that she would be helping him. The portly caretaker acquiesced with a rueful smile. He admired the businesslike redhead’s ethos, and had observed more than once the way she could quell a crisis by sheer force of will. Fred had a lot of time for women who kept order without relying on men, and working at Nonnatus he saw plenty of that. Patsy beamed at him in return, she was very fond of Fred, despite his hapless inefficiency at times. They spent the next hour in companionable silence hauling sacks of compost, transferring seedlings into pots and finally lifting the rehomed plants down to the sunniest part of the plot. Patsy relished using her muscles, working up a sweat, but far from achieving her intention of distracting herself from thoughts of Delia, every exertion set her body thrumming with desire, the adrenaline coursing straight to the one place she was trying not to stimulate.

With the heightened sensation of slick, heated skin Patsy couldn’t help but imagine Delia’s athletic body pressed against hers, the resistance of her toned muscles under Patsy’s fingers (she sank them into the cool soil instead.) As a bead of sweat trickled from her hair, her mind drew her a picture of that same droplet making its way down Delia’s face as she gasped in Patsy’s arms. She tasted salt on her lips and they parted involuntarily as she envisaged tasting salt on Delia’s skin, of burying her face in the brunette’s bare chest and nipping at the exposed flesh.

“Are you feeling alright, Nurse Mount?” Fred interrupted her reverie, concerned that the young woman had glazed over suddenly. “I think you might be catching the sun.”

Patsy noticed that Fred had tied his handkerchief over his head to protect himself from sunburn and was grateful that the unseasonably warm weather could account for the flush she felt over her face and chest.

“Quite alright, thank you, Fred.” She replied brightly. “Time to go in and wash up anyway, just in case a new arrival does decide to put in an appearance!” She stood up and surveyed their afternoon’s work with satisfaction. Despite the fact that she’d been entirely caught up in fantasies of her Welsh firecracker, they had made a good job of getting the new plants out and she looked forward to seeing them flourishing over the coming weeks.

Inside, Patsy took her time washing every trace of the garden from her hands and splashing water on her face, trying to cool her ardour. It was futile; she caught herself tracing her fingertips over her lips, recollecting the sensation of Delia doing the same to her in the back row of the picture house one afternoon last summer, and that precipitated another stirring train of thought, of furtive hands between thighs, both staring ahead in the dark, seeing nothing on the screen in front of them. She’d always maintain that _North By Northwest_ was her favourite film. Patsy was so turned on by now that she was just gripping the edge of the sink, leaning her full weight on it and staring at her flushed, lip-biting reflection hopelessly.

The chiming of the doorbell made her jump. Sister Julienne was at the Mother House for a couple of days and all the other midwives were out in the parish. Assuming Fred was still outside, that left Patsy in charge of the House. Giving herself a stern look in the mirror and taking a deep breath to calm her raging senses Patience Elizabeth Mount gathered her professional demeanour and made her way downstairs.

“Deels!” Seeing the subject of her fevered imagination stood cheerily on her doorstep was so unexpected that Patsy nearly pinched herself to test if she was dreaming.

“You needn’t look so shocked, Pats,” Delia was amused, “I’m only a **bit** early.”

Patsy laughed, recovered from her surprise and delighted to see her favourite person. “Two hours early, Delia. We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

She stepped back to let the brunette indoors, admiring her cobalt and cornflower blue dress as she passed. She’d helped her buy it and was struck again by how arresting the Welsh nurse’s eyes were, perfectly complimented by the vibrant blues.

“Maybe I’ll take you to dinner,” Delia said playfully, “ _Maybe_ I’ll take you dancing…” Patsy stared after her as she sauntered into the hallway, before remembering herself and closing the front door carefully. “Come on! Get your glad rags on. That uniform looks like you’ve been hauling sacks of compost.”

“Funny you should say that,” Patsy gave Delia one of her patented one-sided smiles as she led the way upstairs to the room she shared with Trixie. In the back of her mind she knew she shouldn’t really be entertaining guests in her bedroom, but surely no one could object to Delia stopping by? Before she had a chance to examine her motives they were already inside, Delia closing the door behind them, and any pretence at decorum abruptly evaporated when she turned and their eyes met. Retracing the three steps she’d put between them, Patsy caught her girlfriend up in her arms and kissed her deeply. Delia squeaked in surprise as the redhead desperately pulled them closer together, tongue already questing for Delia’s and hands roaming unchecked.

After a minute they broke apart again and Patsy retreated to the dresser, leaving Delia speechless with one hand leant against the door for support. Patsy cleared her throat as she unbuttoned the collar of her pale blue uniform. “I didn’t mean to ambush you, Delia. It’s just…” She turned to meet her girlfriend’s eyes, “I’ve been _thinking_ about you all day.” The breathless way she emphasised the word ‘thinking’ made the exact nature of those thoughts clear.

“Oh.” Delia blushed, unused to the open lust on Patsy’s face as they stared at each other across the small room. She licked her lips and took a hesitant step towards the redhead. Patsy chewed the tip of her thumb, barely able to contain herself.

“Oh Delia, we can’t! Not here.” Her words sounded earnest but the way her gaze was lingering on the smaller woman’s bare legs weakened her point somewhat. Delia watched Patsy’s stricken face as her eyes slowly travelled up the brunette’s body, her breathing growing ragged, until she met Delia’s eyes again. She shook her head helplessly and slumped down onto her bed, sighing deeply.

Delia carefully sat on Trixie’s bed opposite and waited. Patsy gripped both her knees tightly, squirming in place, trying to cool her raging hormones, trying to ignore how wet she was, the insistent pulse between her legs. She kept her eyes fixed on her hands; she knew that if she looked at Delia right then she’d give in and lose restraint altogether. For her part, the Welsh nurse was mesmerised by the redhead. She’d never seen the put-together midwife so close to the edge of control. Watching Patsy Mount reduced to putty at the sight of her was beyond exciting and Delia felt heat rapidly rising in her too, making her shift impatiently on the bed.

“Talk to me, Pats.” She finally burst out. “I can’t stand this silence!”

Still looking at her fingers, flexing against knees firmly clamped together, Patsy began to speak in a low whisper. “I can’t stand how much I want you.” Delia’s mouth fell open, but she kept quiet and let her girlfriend continue. “How much I want to touch you.” Here Patsy released her death grip on her knees and trailed her hands up to her breasts, kneading them through her uniform, feeling her nipples harden. “I need to touch you this way.” At last she looked up and Delia understood what was about to happen. She mirrored Patsy’s movements, fondling her own breasts and watching the other woman’s face. Patsy nodded her approval. She hesitated briefly, but the moment overtook her and growing bold, she ran one hand down her midriff and over her lap. Delia followed suit. Swallowing hard Patsy slid her hand under the skirt of her uniform, gathering the fabric up to give herself access. Delia’s eyes grew wide as she glimpsed damp cotton and for a few beats she forgot to join in.

As her fingers made contact, brushing up against a full day of frustration, Patsy groaned and Delia felt the sound resonate deep in her core. Belying her namesake and running out of patience all at once, the redhead wriggled out of her underwear, kicking them away in her hurry, and immersed two fingers into her heat, right up to the knuckle, gasping in relief. Delia’s heart missed a beat. She pressed her hand against herself and squeezed her thighs together to increase the pressure, but she was too mesmerised by the display opposite to concentrate on anything other than taking it in. Left hand still teasing her breast, pulling at her erect nipple, Patsy Mount fucked herself brazenly, eyes fixed on her girlfriend’s face, chewing on her lower lip like she wanted to eat the brunette alive. She moaned with satisfaction as her thrusting fingers hit the sweet spot and Delia entirely forgot how to breathe.

In the breathless quiet Delia could hear just how much Patsy had been thinking about her that day, the slick sound of building arousal clearly audible between her involuntary whimpers. The redhead was panting now, strands of hair plastered to her face and abdomen muscles convulsing with exertion. Delia found herself making tight circles over her clit, the sensation intensifying quickly. She didn’t dare make any big movements for fear of breaking the spell. Patsy’s eyelids kept fluttering closed but she forced them open again, maintaining contact with the object of her desire writhing three feet away. As she got close she leaned forward, as though she wanted to share the air, as well as the moment, left hand cupping her right to drive her fingers ever deeper.

Something was tapping on the shoulder of Delia’s attention, but with eyes flitting between her girlfriend’s flushed, beautiful face and restless hands, all of her focus was drawn and her own pleasure was sharpening to a white hot point. Patsy’s sky blue eyes were bright with unshed tears as she toppled over the edge into a shuddering climax, whimpering with relief as the tension in her body finally melted away.

For a few seconds she was motionless, just revelling in the release, then she became aware of Delia’s increasingly urgent activity. By now the Welshwoman had the sheet crumpled in her other fist and Patsy suddenly realised what Delia had been too distracted to acknowledge- there were people in the House, voices on the stairs in casual conversation. Realising they could be interrupted at any second, the midwife withdrew her fingers and held them up for her girlfriend to see. The sight of glistening digits, coated with the evidence of the show she had just witnessed, encouraged Delia on, pressing harder on her throbbing clit and rocking her hips into her hand. Patsy reached across the divide and traced the outline of Delia’s lips, echoing her actions of that afternoon. The brunette was scandalised and thrilled in equal measure, parting her lips to taste her lover’s arousal, and that was enough to finish her off. She lathed Patsy’s fingers with her tongue as she rode out her peak and the redhead could feel herself lighting up again at the immersive sensation.

Before she could do anything about it though the door swung open. She sprang to her feet, uniform falling back into place, although inexcusably crumpled now. Trixie stood in the doorway, hand resting on the handle looking over her shoulder as she finished speaking to Sister Winifred. Delia hurriedly pulled her dress back down over her knees and tried to compose herself. Patsy was at the dresser as Trixie turned into the room.

“Oh! Hello, Delia.” She said, “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Delia tried to respond but had to clear her throat twice before she could get any words out. “I decided to surprise Pats,” she finally got out, “I’m taking her for dinner. If she ever gets herself changed that is!”

This last was delivered in a tone of mock exasperation and Trixie laughed politely, although something about the scene was striking her as a little off.

“I say, are you feeling alright Patsy?”

Both women looked over to the dresser where Nurse Mount had managed to open a drawer, but was now just gripping on to it like she might keel over and breathing a little too hard. Delia made to go to her, but as she started to rise to her feet she caught sight of Patsy’s discarded knickers, lying almost under Trixie’s bed. Hooking them with the toe of her shoe she quickly crammed them in her pocket before the blonde midwife had a chance to see.

“I’ll be fine in a moment,” the redhead replied “I think I caught the sun a bit this afternoon.”

Trixie fetched a glass of water from her bedside and brought it over to her friend. “Yes, you do look rather hot and bothered,” she agreed. “Perhaps we should just get her into bed?” This last comment was directed at Delia, and Patsy sputtered into her water while Delia gaped like a fish. Trixie looked from one woman to the other, bewildered. She knew there was more going on here than they were letting on, but she also knew that Patsy shared when she was ready, and she was sure she would find out eventually.

With her innate social grace she invited Delia downstairs for a cup of tea while her roommate collected herself. When Patsy joined them a few minutes later in an immaculate check shirt and Capri pants, she was once again the picture of bright eyed serenity.

She perched on the arm of the settee smiling warmly at all the nurses in the parlour, greeting Delia by resting her hand gently on the smaller woman’s forearm. Delia looked up at her girlfriend with a wicked expression that gave Patsy momentary butterflies.

Soon enough the tea was finished and the pair took their leave of the Nonnatuns, heading out into the golden early evening sunshine to find somewhere to eat.

“Pats?” Delia began as they walked down the steps, watching the people of Poplar arriving home from their day’s work.

“Yes, Deels?” Patsy was feeling indulgent, enveloped in post-coital ease.

With her endearing Pembridge inflection giving the words a poetic lilt Delia told her girlfriend- “I’ve got your knickers in my pocket.” Patsy was speechless. Clearly it was going to be another charged evening with Delia Busby.

**Author's Note:**

> Song suggestions:
> 
> All I See Is You  
> Sunny  
> I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself  
> Mixed Up Girl  
> I'll Try Anything  
> Can I Get A Witness  
> Girls Can't Do What The Guys Do  
> Stay A While  
> Old Habits Die Hard.


End file.
